Just watched the most depressing movie disguised as an interracial romance and now I’m having an existential crisis about memory, grief, and humanity. Remind me to unpack it later because I currently need to stare at a wall.
Movie so devastating because it refuses to treat memory as an archive. It’s fluid, unreliable, and simply human. Left me with the uncomfortable realization that perhaps we are all just temporary custodians of other people’s grief.
Eleven times in, and gratitude somehow still outruns language. Maybe because some numbers were never meant to be counted, only cherished. Thank you for every vote, every cheer, and every bit of faith you continue to place in us. We’ll keep earning it. X
I fear time is trying to teach me a lesson. Half the year has already escaped and now I find myself thinking life may be too short to keep saying ‘maybe another time’ to people I’d actually enjoy seeing again.
@whereamorwent So these days, I’m trying to be intentional. If I want to see someone, I’ll see them. If I miss someone, I’ll tell them. Time is moving regardless.